


i've got a map of your eyes (but i've never seen your face)

by Blue_Rive



Category: Once Upon a Time (In Space) - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: But not enough to tag, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, and that would need more addressing, briar and cinders aren't necessarily in a relationship, cinders kisses briar briar says she doesn't like it and then cinders asks for consent from then on, fantasy cultural erasure, mechs-typical terrible things, not as in worrying consent, some dub-con/consent issues?, the mechanisms are also here/mentioned, they're close friends but there's a lot of history and conflict there, thought i should warn for it in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Rive/pseuds/Blue_Rive
Summary: “That’s not the real Rose. All the memories and feelings were merely planted in her head.”“Very true.”“And given the effective age difference, it’s unlikely they’ll have much of a life together, not to mention the massive amount of trauma they’ve both endured.”“Absolutely.”“Not only that, but everyone else they’ve ever known or loved is dead and they’re trapped on a planet full of corpses in a vast interstellar empire that is going to suffer the most horrendous power vacuum and associated bloodshed the galaxy has ever seen. Oh, and they’re both known war criminals and will likely be on the run for the rest of their lives.”“Like I said. I love a happy ending.”-Ever After
Relationships: Briar Rose & Cinders (Once Upon A Time In Space), Cinders/Rose (Once Upon A Time In Space)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	i've got a map of your eyes (but i've never seen your face)

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of feelings about these space lesbians
> 
> recommended listening: since it's the mechanisms... the relevant mechs songs? i did also listen to [a complete list of fears- ages 5-28 (approx)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqn_7Vp-_og) by yellow dress a lot writing this, though

You fall into Cinders’ arms. It fits wrong, you’re all elbows and pointy bits and your muscle memory says that you should be holding a knife to her back instead of your head in her shoulder and her head in yours, and tears staining your sleeve. You don’t know how to cry, you remember it but it doesn’t work with you. You wish it did. 

Rose’s body is still there, dead and bleeding out. You grab your chest, reaching for a bullet wound that isn’t there. You’re not her, or if you are that body isn’t you. You’ve died so many times, across a million worlds, and this is the death Cinders is crying about. She’s got to be the real Rose, then, like you aren’t. 

She’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing left for her in the world, hands gripping you and pulling you in, and- she tries to kiss you, but you don’t know how to fit with her right and you turn your face at the wrong time and her nose glances off your cheekbone, messy and broken. 

“Don’t-” Your voice doesn’t sound like Rose’s. It’s wrong in your ears, like hearing a recording being played back. Your vocal cords are stronger and you haven’t talked in years and it comes out harsh and hoarse and too loud. “I’m not her, I’m not your Rose- don’t kiss me.” 

She falls back, then, hands tense around the folds of your clothes but not touching you, not wanting to overstep but not wanting to let go either. “I’m sorry- oh, god, are you a Rose Red, or-” 

“I remember you,” you say quickly, eyes dancing across the room, taking in entrances and exits and what must just have happened. The Mechanisms are still standing in a doorway, bickering. “I’ve got- I’ve got all her memories, I’m just not-” All your words seem to be falling over each other, tripping up and making your sentences fall apart. “I’m- I’m the first Rose Red, I think, they did it wrong.” 

“Of course- Hood told me, I think, you’re Briar Rose.” 

You’ve only heard that name from Jonny before. It sounds better in Cinders’ voice, sounds like it fits you instead of being some military denomination. You’re not Rose- you’re Briar, prickly and full of contradictions and alive.

“Can I- I won’t kiss you again, but can I-” 

You nod, and Cinders falls into another hug, arms clasped tight and never letting go. 

You try and fit into it right this time. You remember hugging her before. Her and Rose in a jail cell, curled around each other, and Rose had whispered in her ear.  _ Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of here. My sister has a plan. _ That’d helped Cinders. You don’t think it’ll help now. Different context and you can’t use the same words for everything and everyone is dead and you can't fix that. It’s a lot easier to kill people than to bring them back to life. You know how to kill people, how to load a gun or snap someone’s neck or choke the breath out of them. You don’t know how to help people. All you’ve got to draw on are memories of a dead person and the instincts of a soldier. 

“How did you even get here?” Cinders asks when you finally unfurl just a little. You’re still close and Cinders is holding onto your hand like a lifeline. She’s warm and human in a way you’re not. You’ve never touched a person without the intent to hurt them before. It’s nice. 

You look where the Mechanisms had been. They’re not there any more. Oh well. “Some bastard named Jonny broke me out. I killed him but it didn’t stick.”

Cinders laughs, a tired broken thing, but it still reminds you of when Rose would play games to try and get her to smile. You’re more serious than Rose, you think. She did a lot of things that don’t make sense to you now. 

She pulls you to your feet, and you have to take a second because it feels like someone’s trying to drag you somewhere.When she sees that she lets go, but you grab back on. You don’t want to lose the touch, even if it feels wrong now. “Do you want to- want to leave?” She falters now that she can see the room properly again. “Oh, god… Snow, Rose… Everyone. Everyone’s dead.” 

You try to lead her away. “Listen- people die all the time.” That isn’t comforting. You don’t know how to be comforting. “I’m sorry. We have to go.” 

Cinders nods. “I have a ship.” 

You leave the room, tracking blood across the halls. The ship’s still where Cinders left it and in good condition. There’s nowhere to go but at least you have somewhere to go there in. 

Cinders shows you in. She doesn’t seem to want to leave your side, but eventually leaves to go shower and wash off the blood. You should too. The blood doesn’t feel wrong to you, though. It’s a part of you, stained into your hands and your clothing and your heart. You end up doing it just so you don’t mess up her spaceship. 

You try to sleep separately that night. You fight people in your sleep, now, and even the blanket over you feels enough like an enemy attacker that it wakes you up. 

In the middle of the night, though, you hear the padding of footsteps, putting you on guard. Cinders turns on the light before you attack her but it’s a close thing. “I’m sorry- I can’t sleep alone, it feels like being in prison again.” 

You remember that. Rose was good at staying with Cinders. You don’t think you’ll be, but you don’t want to turn her away. “You can stay here. I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep for more than a little while.” 

Cinders nods and says something that you have to take a moment to parse. It’s in her native language. You remember her teaching you it, have to sort through all your memories in order to make sense of the words.  _ I miss them. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping for a while.  _

She sees your confusion, explains. “I’ve been trying to use it more lately. We all have been. When King Cole invaded we had to switch the language we used to the standard, and it’s become- become a sign of being a rebel, if you use the one you were born speaking.” She sits next to you on your bed, pulling up the blanket you’ve thrown off. “Did you know that there’s twenty different words for love? All different types.”

All you know is words for different types of warfare. You shake your head. “I can’t remember. ...Can you teach me?”

“Of course. As much as you want.”

\---

Since neither of you can ever sleep, you make a tradition of staying up all night, drinking tea and telling stories. You’ve gotten better at being close to her, now, even if you don’t fit like you remember. Cinders asks what’s a story you have that she doesn’t, and you tell her about the time a fifteen-year-old Rose was supposed to water Snow’s plants for a week while her sister was gone. 

“She forgot,” you say, sentences still short and clumsy and clipped, but at least Cinders seems to like listening, “and in a panic, she went and just got- all new plants. Threw out all the old ones. And it’s-  _ years  _ passed, and she never told anyone. Snow never figured out that the plants weren’t the originals.” 

Cinders laughs, tells the story of the time ten years ago she went to a festival at a freed planet and accidentally broke their darts game. 

She tells you about the stars, too, pointing up through the glass ceiling of the spaceship, the best view you could possibly have. This time around, she’s got stories for all the ones she’s been to, instead of just names. Despite the grief that tinges all your interactions, she’s excited, rambling about the planets that she’d heard of but never got a chance to go to. 

Rose used to have freckles that Cinders would trace across, naming off all the constellations that they looked like. Your skin’s smooth and blank, empty star charts for destroyed galaxies. You’d like to have your own stories, draw your own maps.

  
  


_ Would you like to come with me there,  _ she asks, pointing to a star so high up and far away you can barely make it out. 

  
_ Yes,  _ you say.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment!


End file.
